Insomnia
by Queen of Fairyland
Summary: Malcolm can't sleep. He's tried everything he can think of from warm milk to boring books. Additionally on his midmorning insomnia induced walks he keeps bumping into his least favourite crewman, can she help his insomnia?
1. Part One

**A/N: This is set in the same universe as my stories _'Target Practice'_ and _'Run of the Ship'_, as it includes the recurring character of Crewman Angela ('Ela') Robertson, with whom Malcolm has a somewhat strange relationship with - in that he find her so irritating that he often wishes he could hit her round the head with a phase pistol (shooting her would be a waste of ammunition).**

**It's** not **necessary to have read those stories, there's only a brief reference, but it helps add to the shared history of the characters.**

**Anyway.. here's the story. Enjoy!**

**Warning for some bad language on Malcolm's part in this chapter.**

* * *

**Insomnia**

Insomnia was becoming a rather regular and unwelcome occurrence for Malcolm. He would go to see Phlox, but, well, that sentence finishes itself. Malcolm growled in frustration and blinked at where he knew the ceiling to be in his pitch black quarters. It was no use trying to sleep, he was wide awake.

This was getting ridiculous. He'd tried everything he could think of. A walk, warm milk, relaxing music, a warm shower, reading something by one of the Bronte sisters . . .

Rolling over, face in his pillow, Malcolm tried to think of something else. He could always forgo sleep every alternate night, surely then he's be tired enough to be able to get to sleep. But then again falling asleep at his post would probably be frowned upon by the Captain, and would probably lead to a visit to the doctor. He cringed.

Maybe he was along the right lines though, tiring himself out, it could work. A trip to the gym every evening before he went to sleep, a long one mind you, not leaving before he felt dead on his feet. But that wouldn't solve the current problem.

Sighing, he heaved himself off his bed.

When Malcolm walked into the gym five minutes later his jaw almost hit the deck. This was getting bloody weird. He was beginning to think she was the cause of his insomnia. Whenever he went on one of his mid morning walks, wherever he ended up, there she was. It didn't matter where; the mess hall, the armoury, a random corridor, the gym! It was creepy for crying out loud!

"Sir?" Robertson exclaimed in surprise as she ceased beating the crap out of the punch bag.

"Crewman," Malcolm ground out and stalked over to the exercise bikes. She looked at him contemplatively for a minute, which unnerved him greatly so he tried to concentrate on something else, namely his breathing. His concentration was broken however when she spoke.

"Sir? I know it's none of my business . . . but you don't suffer from insomnia do you?" she asked and walked closer to him so she was within a metre. He frowned at her.

"You're right, it's none of your business," he paused. "But of late, yes, I have been," he added She walked over and sat on the neighbouring bike but swivelled round so she was facing him and sitting sideways on it.

"Been to see Phlox?" she asked innocently. He gave her a 'what do you think?' look and continued peddling. "I thought not," she said. "So . . . what have you tried?" He slowed down to a stop and turned to look at her. "Warm milk? Hot shower? Walk? Music? Boring book?" she asked.

"All of the above."

"Ah. What did you read?"

"Jane Eyre."

"And that didn't send you to sleep?" she asked incredulously. "But what am I thinking? This is the man who reads Ulysses for entertainment," she quipped.

"Ha ha."

"So you're going for the 'all out exhaustion' remedy are you?" she asked. He nodded. "Well if you were married, or had a significant other, then there's a solution that never fails . . ."

"How do you know I don't?" he said indignantly.

"Don't what?"

"Have a 'significant other'?"

"Commander Tucker would have spilled by now," she said matter-of-factly.

"True," he agreed.

"Anyway, apart from that, I find sparring tends to be the best way."

"Really?" he asked with interest, suddenly thankful for her presence.

"Yeah, seeing as you use practically all the muscles in your body," she continued. "Shall we?" she said, indicating the mat on the floor in the centre of the room.

"I don't see why not," he grinned. She rolled her eyes.

"Really Malcolm, you think you can get away with beating me up?" she asked him as they made their way towards the floor.

"No of course not," he said. "Doesn't stop me from knocking you on your arse a few times though," he smirked as he took his position.

"Likewise," she responded as they began circling each other.

* * *

Malcolm shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Every muscle in his body was screaming at him; loudly and persistently. His shoulder was what was causing him the most trouble, any movement he made with his arm caused bolts of pain to shoot up it. It was probably a result of when Robertson had twisted his arm up behind his back.

Not that he handed been able to hold his own, she was probably sporting a few bruises and aches and pains herself today, but she was a lot stronger than she looked.

He interlocked his hands behind him and stretched his arms, ignoring the angry protests his shoulder made and sighing in satisfaction as the tired muscles in his arms stretched and the bones in his back cracked.

"Lieutenant, what are you doing?" Hoshi asked curiously, frowning.

"Stretching," he commented distractedly as he pushed himself over to the console behind him, which turned out not to be the best of ideas. "Shit!" he cursed as he pulled his injured arm towards him. "Fuck," he breathed, gritting his teeth against what felt like jagged knives digging into his shoulder socket.

"Lieutenant?" he heard T'Pol's voice from the other side of the bridge. He didn't look at her at that moment because his eyes were clamped closed and he was focusing on keeping his breathing even.

"Sir?"

Malcolm looked up sharply to see Travis standing in front of his station and the rest of the bridge crew looking at him in concern.

"Pulled something," he ground out. "In my shoulder. It doesn't respond well to pressure, or any kind of movement really," he added with a shrug and subsequently a wince.

"Maybe you should go and see the doctor," Hoshi suggested. Malcolm cringed.

"It's not that bad," he protested.

"From your colourful use of language just now it would seem that it is," T'Pol said with a raised eyebrow.

"Fine," he capitulated. "Now?" he asked when they all looked at him expectantly. "Fine," he said with a sigh.

* * *

Malcolm dug through his mashed potatoes, fork in his good hand, his left currently strapped to his chest to prevent him from moving it too much. Phlox had given him some rather nice pain med.'s though, so he hadn't complained about it; yet.

He looked up as someone sat down at his table with a groan and scowled.

"Soo . . ." Robertson said as her eyes travelled over his arm, "Told anyone how it happened yet?" she asked. He rolled his eyes and ate another mouthful of mashed potato. "I don't blame you, if I were you I wouldn't want anyone to know I got my arse kicked by a girl."

"I did not get my arse kicked," he snapped. "I got my shoulder twisted. And I did some damage to you too," he defended.

"Damn straight you did. I could barely move when I got up. What I wouldn't give for a hot bath," she sighed wistfully.

"I'm with you there," he muttered.

"I'm sorry about your shoulder though," she said sincerely. "I think I might have got a little carried away."

"A little?" he grinned.

"Okay, maybe a lot," she admitted. "But it's not every day you get the opportunity to kick the crap out of your boss with no consequences."

"That's very true," he said, she smiled.

"Good, so no hard feelings then?"

"I didn't say that . . ."

"Yeah but it was implied."

"Implied how? When? I think I'd know if I'd implied anything of the sort," he argued.

"Children," a voice warned. They both looked at Trip as he sat down. "And there I was thinking I saw smiles over here a minute ago, I did think it was odd at tha' time."

"We were just discussing how Malcolm hurt his shoulder," Robertson said conversationally. Trip shot a curious glance at Malcolm.

"Oh really?"

"Mmmhmm," she nodded and took a sip of her drink. "Has he told you yet?" she asked.

"No, no I don't think he has," he said with an expectant smile, Malcolm groaned.

* * *

**Please review and let me know what you thought. Thanks for reading.**


	2. Part Two

**Insomnia - Part 2**

It was physically impossible for him to go to the gym that evening, or so the doctor had told him. Malcolm thought he was quite capable of sparring one handed, but for some reason the doctor had seemed horrified by the suggestion. Consequently, he was walking the corridors of the ships at 0300; exhausted but unable to sleep.

Just before he turned down the corridor that led to the turbolift on his deck, he heard voices from round the corner, he peered round to see the captain and Trip standing by the lift and talking.

"So you didn't find out?" Archer asked Trip, who shook his head with a smile.

"Nope, he evaded the issue spectacularly."

"It just seems a little odd," Archer shrugged. "I wasn't particularly worried until Phlox came to me saying that the injuries were consistent with someone who'd been in a barroom brawl." Malcolm narrowed his eyes, Phlox was in for some harsh field training.

"Malcolm fighting with someone?" Trip asked incredulously.

"It's happened before," Archer pointed out.

"Yeah but Malcolm gets on well with all his staff and the rest of the crew."

"I can think of one or two exceptions," Archer said wryly.

"If you're talking about Angela Robertson . . ." Trip trailed off.

"They certainly have their differences."

"They're not that bad that it'd descend into physical violence. And they've been getting much better recently," Trip pointed out.

"Maybe this is why," Archer shrugged.

"You think they've been settling their differences by beating the crap out of each other in their off hours?" Trip asked with a raised eyebrow and a grin.

"It's possibl-"

"Malcolm!" a voice said from behind him and he span round.

"Ssshh!" he hissed at her.

"What?" Robertson asked just before he put a hand over her mouth to shut her up.

"Malcolm?" Too late.

"Captain. Commander," he acknowledged with a nod, releasing Robertson from his good arm.

"What are you doing?" Archer asked, glancing between them.

"I was on my way to the mess hall sir," Robertson smiled. "And you? Burning the midnight oil?"

"Something like that," he said glancing between Malcolm and her again. He raised an enquiring eyebrow at Malcolm.

"Just out for a stroll," he responded, stuffing his hand into his pocket.

"At three in the morning?" Trip asked.

"Couldn't sleep," Malcolm shrugged.

"Still?" Robertson enquired, he glared at her. "Sorry," she muttered before taking a step towards the turbo lift. "Night sirs," she smiled as she entered and the door closed behind her.

"Still?" Archer enquired. "You've been having trouble sleeping?"

"A little," he shrugged. "But I keep bumping into Robertson, I don't think she's human sir, she doesn't seem to sleep at all." Archer and Trip laughed.

"Well I'm gonna' hit the hay," Archer said, opening the lift door. "Get some sleep Malcolm," he said before the doors closed on him.

"So how bad is it really?" Trip asked as he they walked towards his quarters. "And don't even try it because I can tell when you're lying," he warned. Malcolm sighed.

"It's not good. The only time I seem to be able to get any sleep is if I'm dead on my feet and can't physically stay awake any longer, even though that's how I'm feeling most of the time anyway," he said running a hand through his hair.

"You should go and talk to Phlox," Trip suggested.

"I suppose," Malcolm capitulated grudgingly. "I'll give it another week, if it doesn't get any better . . ." he shrugged.

"I'll hold you to that," Trip said as he opened the door to his quarters.

"Yes sir," Malcolm replied sourly, Trip laughed.

"Night Malcolm."

"Goodnight."

* * *

Malcolm made his way to the mess unhappily. He had nothing personally against Enterprise hosting gala events for alien dignitaries, just as long as he didn't have to attend. With a sigh he opened the door to the mess and entered.

Archer appeared to be regaling a group of the Pentrillans with some story or another, whilst Hoshi appeared deep in conversation with a couple of others. Travis was sitting at a table accompanied by four of the aliens and looked to be introducing them to human food.

"Malcolm!" He turned round to face Trip who was walking towards him.

"Commander," he acknowledged. "How goes the mingling?"

"Not too bad," Trip grinned. "They're nice enough. A little dull though," he added, pitching his voice quieter.

"That makes a welcome change then," he responded before stifling a yawn.

"See, you haven't even spoken to one of them yet and you've practically fallen asleep," Tucker grinned. Malcolm rolled his eyes and mustered up a small smile.

"It must be airborne."

"We'll have to tell Phlox to be more careful when he screens new arrivals."

Malcolm smiled at their interplay as he leaned back against the wall tiredly, before stifling another yawn. Trip looked at him closely.

"You're still not sleeping are you?" he asked. Malcolm ran a hand through his hair and shrugged, looking away.

"I'm fine."

"Okay, but you're not sleepin' are you?"

Malcolm sighed, "No," he said.

"You need to go and see Phlox," Trip said sternly.

"Yes, I know."

"Come on then," he said expectantly.

"Now!"

"Yes now, I don't trust you to go by yourself," he said. "And they don't need us here at the moment, the Cap'n will call us over the comm. if he does."

"But-"

"No arguing with me on this Malcolm. I'll make it an order if I have to," he said sternly.

"Yes sir," Malcolm replied, picking himself up from against the wall and turning to the door.

* * *

"Well I'm not sure what I can recommend," Phlox said with a frown. "Unless… I've just read the excretions of-"

"No!" Malcolm exclaimed. "No thank you, Doctor."

"T'Pol helped Commander Tucker when he was losing sleep with neuropressure," Out of the corner of his eye Malcolm saw Trip's eyes widen and he stood up from the wall he'd been leaning against. "But that had a clearly defined cause, and I doubt she'd be willing to do that again anyway…" Malcolm swore he heard Trip exhale.

"Well, thanks anyway," Malcolm said, standing up from the bio-bed.

"Not so fast Lieutenant," Phlox said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and pushing him back down. "We still need to find a solution. If you were married perhaps…" Phlox trailed off and Malcolm rolled his eyes.

"Yes, yes. Sex is a cure for insomnia, so I've heard," he said and heard Trip chuckle. "But seeing as I'm not willing to break the anti-frat. reg's, the only people that leaves open to me are Lieutenant Hess, you and Porthos."

"And you and Lieutenant Hess don't get on?" Phlox enquired.

"Oh for Pete's sake!" Malcolm exclaimed, standing up again and managing to step away before Phlox could stop him.

"Malcolm," Trip said warningly from the door.

"Perhaps a simple massage would help? Rather than neuoropressure or sexual intercourse," Phlox suggested. Malcolm smirked and almost turned round to say to Trip that he thought they were the same thing.

"Right, I'll just go and make an appointment with the onboard masseuse," Malcolm snarked.

"I'll ask around, I'm sure there's somebody suitably qualified," Phlox smiled.

"Ask around?" Malcolm asked incredulously. "You intend to inform the entire crew that I haven't had more than three hours of sleep for a couple of months?" he asked angrily. "And like they'll be anyone 'suitably qualified' onboard anyway-"

"Angela Robertson used to work in her cousins beauty parlour," Trip interrupted Malcolm's tirade.

"Perfect!" Phloz exclaimed.

"What?" Malcolm looked between the two. "Oh no no no no…"

* * *

"Come on Malcolm what's the big deal?" Trip asked as they headed back to the mess hall. Malcolm glared at him. "Seriously, I don't see the problem! Bedtime massages from an attractive woman, where's the problem?" he asked with a grin.

Malcolm stayed silent and picked up the pace. Trip matched it.

"Or is that the problem?" Trip asked with a devious grin. "Does Malcolm have a thing for Angela?"

"What?" How could he possibly….? "She's the most irritating woman I've ever met!" he exclaimed.

"Oohhh, I'm seeing all that arguing in a different light now!" Trip continued, completely ignoring him. "Oh, and back a few months ago when you were supervising target practice sessions and she said you'd been looking at her legs!" Trip said excitedly.

"Oh for- She was wearing a mini skirt!" he exclaimed.

"And back when the Larackians commandeered the ship, Travis said you two were getting pretty cosy!" he exclaimed happily.

"She leant on me in her sleep!" Malcolm defended.

"Oh it all fits together," Trip grinned.

Malcolm was getting slightly worried at the manic expression on his friends face and decided that he was never going to bring up the time she kissed him in order to shock him into consciousness. He doubted it would matter to Trip that he had recoiled so much in his horror that he had fallen off his chair.

"Oh look, the mess hall," he said with relief as they approached the door. "Time to mingle," he said, before practically sprinted his way in and promptly hiding inconspicuously behind Travis until Trip was pulled aside by the Captain to join in his conversation with the Pentrillans.

* * *

Malcolm watched the stars streak pass the windows as he drank his tea.

"Hiya Malcom," Trip greeted. "Mind if we join you?" he said indicating himself and Travis. Nalcoln shrugged and waved at two empty chairs at the table.

"Bit late for dinner isn't it?" he asked referring to their trays.

"We just finished running some pretty endless simulations," Trip replied before taking a bite of his dinner. "So," he said threw a mouthful of food. "Isn't tonight the big da-"

"Say it and die," Malcolm interrupted. Travis' eyebrow shot up.

"You wouldn't be so touchy about it if there weren't somethin' to it," Trip insisted. Travis looked curiously between the two of them, but seemed to know better than to ask.

"I'm not touchy-" Malcolm objected.

"Maybe you should be, she might like it," Trip grinned. Malcolm growled angrily and made to stand up, Trip stuck out a hand and pulled him back down. "I don't get it. She's gorgeous, has great legs, curves in all the right places…."

"Maybe you should ask her out," Malcolm suggested venomously. "I've got to go," he said, shaking off Trip's hand and standing up.

"Wouldn't want to keep Angela waiting now," Trip sing-songed as he left.

* * *

When he got to his quarters Robertson was leaning against the wall outside them. She grinned at him.

"So I haven't quite decided what you'll be doing for my as repayment yet, but I'm working on it. I want it to be perfect you know, so I don't want to rush it," she said happily.

"Are you quite done?" he asked as he opened the door and let them inside.

"For now," she said smugly. "I still can't believe you agreed to this," she commented as the door slid shut behind them.

"Desperation and sleep deprivation does horrible things to a person," he said dryly.

"Evidently," she agreed. "All right then get your kit off," she ordered, he raised an eyebrow. "Fine. Please sir, would you remove your shirt so I can cure you of your insomnia? Oh pretty please?"

"Yes, yes, that's enough thank you," Malcolm grimaced before pulling his shirt over his head

"Not bad," she said after letting out a low whistle. He glared at her. "Sorry, sorry. Okay then Mister Reed, face down on the bed I think." He shook his head but followed her instructions.

* * *

"Sleep well?" Robertson asked the next morning as she sat down next to him in the mess hall.

"Better than usual," he told her. "Thank you," he added reluctantly.

"No problem. I guess I haven't lost my touch then," she grinned.

"I guess not," he agreed.

"So…. Will you be requiring my services on a regular basis?" she asked with a smirk.

"We'll leave it for tonight, see if I can sleep any better on my own."

"Sure," she shrugged. "If you can't sleep, let me know, I'll probably be about," she smiled.

"Thanks," he said genuinely.

"Right, that's enough of this 'friendly' conversation," she said with a grin as she stood up, Malcolm laughed.

"Definitely."

* * *

**Thanks to Joy and Begoogled for reviewing part 1! Hope you enjoyed Part 2, please REVIEW and let me know what you think!**


	3. Part Three of 3

**Insomnia - Part 3**

****

"So how was you're evenin'?"

Malcolm looked up from his station on the bridge to look at Trip who was standing next to him.

"Sleep filled," Malcolm answered shortly and looked back down at the screen.

"So you didn't-"

"Commander!" Malcolm cut him off. "I hardly think the bridge is the place for you to be spreading false rumours. You usually limit yourself to the mess, occasionally the gym…" he trailed off and heard Hoshi giggle and Travis snort. He didn't need to look up to see that T'Pol was raising a sardonic eyebrow.

"Fine, fine," Trip capitulated. "But this is the end of it," he warned as he stalked off the bridge and entered the turbolift.

* * *

"I have a bad feeling about them," Archer told Malcolm in his ready room after he had got back from a tour of the Pentrillan capital city.

"A bad feeling sir?" Malcolm asked.

"Yeah, I couldn't put my finger on it. They were hiding something though." Sometimes Archer's 'feelings' were spot on, but they could be beyond irritating when they weren't specific.

"I'm gathering you'll be requiring my services then?" Malcolm asked, mentally smirking at his choice of words. He certainly hoped the services he'd be providing Archer were different from those Robertson did for him.

"I'd like to take a security detail down with us tomorrow when we finalise the treaty," Archer said.

"That won't be a problem, sir," Malcolm responded. "Three, including myself?"

"Sounds good, be in the launch bay at 0900," Archer told him. "Dismissed,"

* * *

Robertson jumped out of the shower at the sounds of her door chime. "Shit, hang on," she muttered, grabbing a towel and wrapping it round her. She opened the door to face Malcolm Reed.

"Sir!" She exclaimed in surprise. He blinked at her, took in her hastily towel clad form and took a step back.

"Right, bad time," he said, unfolding his crossed arms and putting them in his pockets. "I'll just…." He nodded down the hallway.

"Don't be stupid, I said anytime, I just figured you'd be too proud to come and ask," she said, stepping back to invite him in.

"Right. Okay, thank you," he said, hesitantly entering.

"I'll just, you know, go and put some clothes on," she said grabbing a shirt and some track suit bottoms from her closet. "Otherwise this'd be a completely different kind of massage," she grinned as he smirked and headed to the bathroom. "One that would cost _a lot_ more!" she called before the door shut behind her.

When she came back out he was sitting cross-legged on her bed.

"Let's get to it then," she said with a wave of her hand.

Ten minutes later he was shirtless, face down on her bed, and sound asleep.

"Prat," she muttered, pushing him slightly. He didn't wake up. "Argh," she complained, glancing between the floor and sliver of bed he'd left empty that was just big enough for her to lay on. Deciding that she was definitely not sleeping on the floor for Malcolm Reed, especially when he had recruited her for guard duty tomorrow, she pushed him over slightly and laid down.

* * *

As Malcolm slowly made his way into consciousness he noted two things. Firstly, he'd had a decent night's sleep and secondly: there was someone in his bed.

His mind snapped back to a comment he'd made a few days ago to Phlox. Well it wasn't Porthos, and he doubted Phlox would fit in the bed with him. He stretched out his toes and briefly touched them to the sleeping individual's, too tall to be Hess.

Then his mind suddenly woke up when the previous evening came back to him. His eyes flew open and met laughing green ones.

"Morning Malcolm," she grinned. "I figured you were awake when you tensed up, I assume with horror because you remembered where you were," she grinned again.

"How come you aren't recoiling in horror?" he asked, wincing at his rough sleep filled voice.

"Wellit's not likebeing pissy and uptight isn't contagious, is it?" she said before her eyes widened in mock horror. "It isn't, is it?"

"It's to early to have to deal with you," he mumbled into her pillow.

"Hey, no going back to sleep." She kicked him in the shin and he swore angrily. "We've got a pre-mission briefing in and hour and a half," she informed him.

"Mmmhmm," he said into the pillow again, before what she'd said registered. "Right," he said groggily, sitting up. He glanced down at her. "Move then."

"That's nice," she grumbled as she complied. "Share my bed with you and I don't even get a thank you before you're kicking me out of it."

He stood up and stretched out his arms behind his back before glancing around the room for his shirt.

"On the floor somewhere," Robertson mumbled. He spotted it and pulled it on over his head as she snuggled back down into her pillow. "Bye Malcolm."

"Don't be late for the briefing," he warned her. She nodded into the pillow and waved her arm in the general direction of her computer and mumbled 'alarm'. "Right, see you later," he said before exiting her quarters.

Of course that just happened to be the moment Trip chose to walk down that particular corridor. He stopped dead in his tracks and raised his eyebrows, looking from Malcolm to Robertson's door, then back again.

Malcolm held up a hand and pointed at him warningly, "Not a word," he said and began walking towards his quarters, which were thankfully only round the corner.

"Oh no no no, Malcolm, you are not gettin' away that easily," Trip said, catching up in quick strides. "Explain," he ordered.

"I fell asleep," Malcolm said simply as he spotted his door at the end of the corridor and increased his speed.

"Fell asleep? What were you doing there in the first place?"

"You know what I was doing there," he said as they reached his door and opened it. "I fell asleep, I woke up, I left," he said shortly. "Now, I'm going to shower. See you at the briefing Commander," he said and promptlyclosed the door on Trip's face.

* * *

Three hours later and Malcolm wished he'd never got out of bed, be it Robertson's, hisor anyone elses. He and El ran down the back streets of the Pentrillan capital as fast as they could in a bid to escape their pursuers. As it turned out the Pentrillans were close business associates with the Orion's, in the slave trade business, and believed that a few humans to sell would be very good for business (they obviously weren't well informed about the last time humans had been put up for auction).

Malcolm led them into a sheltered alley and pulled out his communicator. "Reed to Tucker, what's your situation?"

_"Me an' Smith have managed to shake 'em. The Cap'n and T'Pol took the shuttlepod back to the ship, they didn't have a choice. We're gonna' have to use the transporter, but they were doing repairs on it and are just trying to put it back right."_

"Whenever they're ready would be brilliant," Malcolm said breathlessly. "Where are you?"

_"'Round the back of the hospital building."_

"Sir!" Robertson whispered. "That's just across the street," she pointed to a large building, it's entrance ensconced in green from the eerie street lights.

"I see it," he told her as he glanced around the seemingly empty street. It would be a risk getting over there with no cover, but it was better than being stuck in a dead-end alley. "Trip we're in an ally opposite the entrance, think you could come round and provide us with some cover in case we need it?"

_"No problem, on our way. Tucker out."_

"C'mon," Malcolm said as he crept out of the alley to look round the corner. "Go, I'll cover you," he instructed her. She gave him a quick nod before darting out of the ally and across the street to the green building opposite.

Halfway there she threw herself to the ground and a burst of blue light flew over her shoulder. Phaser fire was returned from either side of the Pentrillan hospital as Malcolm ran out to where Robertson was laying on the ground.

"Ela," he whispered urgently and grabbed her shoulders, lifting her up. She groaned in pain. "We've got to go." She nodded and he noticed blood trickling down her forehead.

"I'm good, go," she told him as she pulled herself to her feet. They ducked as another shot of blue light flew over their heads. Malcolm span round and fired back, grabbing Robertson by the wrist and pulling her with him, he began running to cover.

A sudden volley of shots came their way and they dropped to the ground to avoid them. When the shots thinned, Malcolm went to stand up again but Robertson didn't move.

He rolled her over so she was face up and brushed her hair from her face. Green eyes stared lifelessly back at him.

"No," he muttered in shock as he sought out a pulse but was unable to find one.

"Malcolm!" he heard Trip shout from behind him. He looked up just in time to be kicked in the head by one of their pursuers and fall face first to the ground next to Robertson.

He blinked at the stone ground in front of him and glanced to his left where the Pentrillan was lifting Robertson up. He rolled over and tried to reach for his phase pistol but it was gone. He groaned in pain as well as frustration.

The Pentrillan male looked down at him and grinned maliciously, before pressing a button on his wrist device and disappearing before Malcolm's eyes, with Robertson in tow.

* * *

Malcolm didn't speak once between that moment they returned to the ship and when he finally got released back to his quarters. The doctor hadn't known what else to do with him.

He lay flat on his bed, face in his pillow as he replayed the mission in his head. Swearing loudly, he hit the pillow hard with his fist. He rolled over and blinked at where he knew the ceiling to be in his pitch black quarters.

Hours later Malcolm was still staring at the ceiling.

He couldn't sleep.

* * *

**Thanks to Joy, wes and fred, irishblue69, Drakcir, and volley for reviewing part 2. I hope everyone who read it enjoyed the story! Please REVIEW and let me know. (Especially considering it ended kinda somberly compared with the other parts).**


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